Recidivus
by his.dark.demise
Summary: The road to redemption is long, and old habits die hard.
1. How It Was

_I don't own The Incredibles, Disney, Pixar, etc. _

_Purely a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidence. _

_No animals were harmed in the making of this story.  
><em>

**Prison Hospital Ward - 7PM**

_Where am I..._

That night had been like any other for Mirage. It had been five years since the last time she'd seen him awake, well and alive, and she imagined that tonight would be no different then any other; She'd visited this hospital once a month to check up on his condition and never had there been a change worth mentioning. Just the same sleeping form of a man she'd been amazed had survived his ordeal against the turbine blade. Miraculously he'd managed to stay in one piece and even more surprisingly had made it to the hospital before he'd breathed his final breath. They'd managed to get the former villain known as Syndrome into a stable condition and there he'd stayed, and there he was five years later in that same condition with no hopes or expectations of ever coming out of the coma he'd fallen into. All was well, however. The world was better off without Buddy Pine for a while so far as she was concerned.

Mirage flipped her platinum hair as she walked through the security gates, they knew her well. Various security checks had eventually brought her to the room in which he stayed, silent except for the beeping monitors that reminded the nurses that he was indeed still alive, if barely. She came up on his bedside, peering lifelessly down at what might as well have been nothing at all. The years had hardly passed him by and what she saw as her head tilted ever-slightly was nothing but a peaceful expression, far more pleasant than she'd ever remembered him having while awake.

"Nothing of consequence has happened lately." Her voice cracked on the first word, speaking up as if he could hear her. The echo of the walls had always distracted her, she hated the emptiness of the place. She never knew for sure if he was listening, but she'd done it for so long that it almost felt as though she was obligated to continue. "Some pathetic attempts at villainy, easily dispatched. Things have changed a lot these past few years, haven't they?"

She didn't expect an answer, she never had. Her left hand stayed stiffly clasped to the side of her business suit, but her right couldn't help but creep slowly upwards to the bed patient's head, fingers sliding across his hair that had done little else but grow in all of its spare time. Her expression changed to a small but gentle smile and for a moment, she was with somebody else. Everything he'd done was gone and forgotten, The Incredibles didn't exist, and she wasn't Mirage anymore.

A slight movement had caused her to jerk her hand back several inches, eyes wide in that moment. It had been so slight, but more than had ever happened before; Buddy Pine's eye had twitched. Mirage couldn't help but take several more quick steps backwards as that twitch turned into more. For the first time in five years, his bright blue eyes had been visible, cringed against the harsh light of the hospital ceiling lamps. The monitors beeped furiously as new life emerged before her, not recognizing their new surroundings. A confused sound followed, and by that time she'd gathered her composure and rushed back to his side.

"Buddy.. Buddy, can you hear me?" She hadn't realized that her voice had sounded almost panicked. His head tilted in her direction, and in that moment their eyes had met but she knew he hadn't recognized her at first.

"Where am I..." Dazed, cracked, hardly there, and yet she couldn't have been more excited. Her hand returned to his hair, smiling.

"The hospital. You've been here a long time."

"What...what day is it..." By this time he was fully awake, eyes flicking back and forth across the tiles in the ceiling. Yes, this is where he was. He'd overheard the conversations between the guards and nurses more than once in his dreams. When she'd told him, he'd done his best not to seem entirely too shocked, but had that much time truly passed him by? Before he could utter another word to her, Mirage cleared her throat and began on what she'd been rehearsing.

"Nomanisan is, for a lack of better words, sunk. Th-"

"Those bastards froze my assets. All the major accounts are done for. So much for support from the stockholders." The silver-haired female had done a double take as she'd been interrupted. He was surprisingly well-informed for someone who hadn't seen the light of day in such a long time. Her thoughts were short-lived however; His eyes were on her, searching for something. "You're on their side now."

"I am." She replied a little more bluntly than she would've liked. Her hands gripped the side-railing of the bed tightly and all hope she'd had that he would have changed wavered. The expression she'd received was less than thrilled. He looked away, head nodding.

"Wouldn't have expected any less." He muttered.

"And that's supposed to mean what, exactly?" Mirage was now on the offensive, arms crossed across her chest. Buddy exhaled, eyes rolling.

"It'll mean whatever you make of it."

"And if I take offense?"

"Wouldn't be the first time." His quick tongue had silenced her, and the tension between them kept it quiet for several minutes longer. She wanted to say something, anything to break it apart, but no words could be found and he didn't seem interested in conversation. A nurse had come in just in time, smiling brightly at the newly awakened patient. She immediately went over his vitals while he muttered various responses to general questions and eyeballed a passing guard. Mirage moved away from them, standing off in an empty corner and observing from a distance.

She wished in that moment that she could remember a time in which he'd been honestly happy, and not just thrilled at the thought of revenge and world domination. Years ago, years before it all...

"You're doing surprisingly well, Mr. Pine. A number of us were pretty sure you wouldn't pull out of it without some major damage to speak of, if not physically than most certainly mentally. Quite a trooper you are."

"Genius never sleeps." He flashed the nurse a sly, albeit tired grin grin and nodded respectfully to a doctor who had come in a few moments later. Together the three went over deciding what kind of motor skills the patient had; Not only had he not forgotten his signature, but took care of the paperwork in the same few minutes. "Seems I'm stuck here, hm?"

"Would seem that way, Mr. Pine, or whatever you prefer to be called these days." The doctor replied, waving a flashlight over his eyes again to be sure that the first time hadn't been a fluke. "Things have changed a great deal since you've been out but rest assured or downtrodden that you've not been forgotten. That being said, you're allowed visitors after they've gone through a background check."

"I'm pretty dangerous in a hospital bed."

"You won't be here for long at the rate you're going."

"I can't wait to race the old men down the halls." The doctor chuckled, putting his flashlight away and taking the paperwork that had been signed, double-checking all of it before tucking the pile under his arm.

"Haven't lost a bit of your wit. I'd hold your tongue however, if you want a chance of getting out of here before you're one of them." The doctor winked and left them, the nurse following closely behind. Mirage's gaze fell upon the patient in the bed who's expression had fallen into deep contemplation over those last words.

"That might be the single greatest piece of advice someone's ever given you."

"You're still here?" He asked bluntly, and it was at that point that she'd decided enough was enough. It was pointless to argue with Syndrome OR Buddy Pine, and she'd had more than her share of experience with both. The thin woman turned around, heels clicking on the linoleum as she let herself out. Before she could fully leave however, his voice pulled her back. "Find me a new secretary."

She turned her head, eyes narrow. "I haven't quit yet." His expression was no less than snarky and for a moment she thought she'd seen an old spark come back.

"Haven't been a very trustworthy co-worker, babe."

"Don't go there." She raised a finger towards him as soon as he'd said it. "I'll be back tomorrow." And with that, she left him there to watch after her retreating figure.

_So that's how it is, Mirage?_


	2. This Is Happening

_"Hope you enjoyed your five years of peace and relative sanity."_

_"He actually woke up?"_

_"Just what I've always wanted, some more giant robots to blow up."_

_"They've got him locked up tighter than the Alcatraz, no worries."_

_"Doesn't exactly help me sleep at night."_

The word about Buddy Pine's awakening had spread like a wildfire. Both supers and villains had their ears perked to the news and it had made quite a splash on the public headlines. Mirage took the liberty of heading the press conference that as far as she was concerned, was completely pointless. She'd stood behind the podium and answered every question from the most sensible to the completely ridiculous with a straight face and pleasant expression. They could've put anybody else up on that pedestal (namely his lawyer), but who better than his former co-conspirator to answer in his absence? Nobody knew Syndrome better than the one who'd spent the better part of her life with him; Professionally or romantically was a question that was not answered directly. After what seemed like ages Mirage had finally put a hand up to silence the crowd. She gathered her folders up neatly and stepped down from the podium. Mr. Incredible had joined and escorted her out of the room and to a waiting limo.

"You didn't have to do this." He shook his head, picking up a drink and taking a sip as the car went to its next destination.

"He'll appreciate it in his own way."

"Syndrome? Appreciative of anything other than his pretty face in the mirror? Come on, Mirage." Mr. Incredible rolled his eyes and crossed his legs lazily. He knew all too well that the CEO of Pine Industries had a heart of nothing but black and very few emotions outside of overconfident and angry. Syndrome was the textbook definition of Villainous, and he was still surprised that they hadn't amended the dictionary to include a picture of him next to the word. The small woman on the opposite side of the limo had a different expression, however. It caused Mr. Incredible to peer at her silently for several moments, canting his head to the side. "Are you alright?"

"It wasn't always like that."

"Look, it isn't my business what you two do behind closed doors, but I still think you're giving him too much credit."

"Any 'relationship' between us has been purely professional, Mr. Incredible."

"Even so."

The majority of their trip had been in silence afterwards. Mirage busied herself with the industry's legal paperwork while Mr. Incredible stared idly out the window. She'd signed no less than a dozen different pieces of paper, reading over several others and scoffing at several more. By the time she'd finished they'd arrived at their destination; The NSA office. Rick Dicker had been there to shake both of their hands and set them down at the nearest available table.

"Syndrome's got a lot of guts handing over his entire enterprise to you, Mirage. Frozen assets or not, you may have just become the next multi-billionaire overnight."

"I'm simply an overseer, Mr. Dicker. Frozen assets or not, the enterprise still belongs to Mr. Pine." She spoke smartly and pointedly, signing off the final piece of paper in her own signature and handing it over to the man in charge of super affairs. "And since we're all here, I'd like to make a suggestion."

"And that would be?" Rick took the papers and filed them away in a desk, picking up a cup of coffee from the desk as she'd spoken. Mr. Incredible had done the same, and they both happened to be drinking it at the same time when her next statement had been voiced, which promptly caused them to spit their drinks out in unison.

"I suggest that you offer Syndrome a place amongst the supers."

"Are you crazy?"

"I'm logical, Mr. Dickers. You offered _me_ a position amongst you."

"You aren't a genocidal maniac!" Mr. Incredible pushed in, attention completely on the woman who said starkly in her chair. She made eye contact with the super, raising an eyebrow.

"I was just as involved in Syndrome's plots as he was, if you don't recall. Listen to reason for a moment, gentlemen." She paused, waiting for both of them to look ready to take the suggestion; Neither of them did, so she continued. "Syndrome's sentence is not for life and he is not the same person he was five years ago. I can personally attest for this. Why leave him brewing in a prison cell, knowing that he'll have a plan of attack by the time he gets out? Neither of you can deny that he may be the single greatest mind Metroville has seen in a long time, and I'd hate to see it go to waste on being your self-proclaimed nemesis again, Mr. Incredible."

"Syndrome doesn't reason with people, Mirage."

"Neither do you, Mr. Incredible."

"We have _nothing_ in common." He hissed.

"Nothing at all. Disregard for property, short temper, lack of reasoning skills..."

"I won't do it!" Mr. Incredible snapped, but Mirage did not budge from her position.

"Some of that technology of his is still relevant." Rick mused with himself, one hand on his chin. Mr. Incredible stared at him incredulously, jaw dropped. "The kid's years ahead of his time and I've little doubt that he'd be right back at your throat, given the opportunity."

"You can't be serious! Have you both lost your minds?"

"Deal. However, he is to be closely monitored twenty-four hours a day with traces on all phone calls and contacts. If he can't get along with the kids, he'll be removed from the sandbox and thrown back into the slammer until his sentence is up." Both Rick and Mirage rose to their feet, shaking hands to seal the deal. Mr. Incredible still couldn't believe what he was hearing and several moments later it still hadn't sunk in. How could they even consider this? Even as they left the NSA building and returned to their limo, he still hoped and prayed that he'd wake from this walking nightmare. As they reached the prison in which Syndrome was held in and he and Mirage had exited the limo and started through the outside security checks, however, the reality of the situation had finally begun to sink in.

_I can't believe this is happening..._


	3. They'll Never Believe

_Could this get any worse? He could always say no. He's completely psycho, of course he'll never agree to this! Calm down, Bob. He's just another kid in a cell block._

Mr. Incredible was visibly sweating by the time he and Mirage had made it through the final checkpoint that lead to the prison's hospital wing. The sequence in which events were occurring was moving far too quickly for him, and every fiber of his being wanted nothing but to turn back. He hadn't seen Buddy Pine in five years but he'd never gotten the man's malicious gaze out of his head or the corpses of his friends littered over the expanse of Nomanisan Island. If Mr. Incredible had any fear, it was facing him again. It's alright. He's unarmed this time. Mirage had snapped the old super out of his trance with a tap on the shoulder. "Stay here for a minute."

"What, why?"

"Just let me do the talking, Mr. Incredible." Mirage whispered, squaring her shoulders as she entered his room. The bed was still there, but the patient was not in it, much to Mirage's surprise. Syndrome was sitting on a bench across the room, leaned up against the wall lazily with a headset that he must've acquired from someone. His eyes were closed, head bobbing along to the music and looking hopelessly bored with himself. She raised an eyebrow, sympathizing with his situation for a moment.

"I've got some news for you." Syndrome cracked a single eye open to peer at the face attached to the voice, and removed an ear bud.

"Didn't I fire you? How do you keep getting in here?" She ignored his comment, sitting beside him and setting her paperwork on her lap. He turned his head towards her, giving everything in front of him a once-over out of curiosity; He hadn't seen anything interesting all day. Mirage pulled out several papers from a file, handing them over to Syndrome, who picked it up, eyes running over it suspiciously. He leafed through the papers in near-silence, raising an eyebrow once in a great while at certain lines. "And they honestly think I'm gonna go along with this garbage? Think again, and stop pointing that pen at me. I'm not signing this." He shoved it back at her, crossing his arms and visibly sulking. What a blatant lie she'd told; He hadn't changed at all.

"So what you're telling me, Buddy, is-"

"I don't recall giving you permission to call me that."

"You'd rather spend half your life losing your mind in a prison cell than putting it to good use somewhere."

"You know me so well." He sneered, eyes rolling.

"Mr. Incredible? You can come in now." She watched with her own satisfaction as Syndrome's breath caught in his throat at the mention of the nemesis's name, body visibly tensing as the super entered the room. The moment their eyes met, Mr. Incredible knew the truth. There was absolutely nothing in those familiar blue eyes but malice and unchecked rage. Mirage took Syndrome by the wrist as he made ready to leap, pulling him back to his seat with little effort. She doubted he could stand for long, let alone attack a super.

"So much for the story of a changed man. Still looks like the same angry kid to me."

"Come over here and say that..." Syndrome hissed through painfully gritted teeth. Mirage did her best to ignore the fact that he was trembling in her grip. She immediately glared at Mr. Incredible, nodding for him to stay where he was. The former villain's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You've got some nerve."

"And you're still completely out of your mind."

"You won't be saying that when I-"

"Syndrome!"

"Big talk for a little brat."

"Mr. Incredible!"

"I almost killed you once, I swear to God I'll do it again..."

"You and what army? The government-seized machinery, maybe?"

**"Both of you, SHUT UP!"** Mirage threw her paperwork down on the bench, standing up and shouting between the two of them. They were temporary silenced, allowing her to take a breath and gather her composure. If she'd had any chance at all of convincing the NSA that Syndrome was sane, she'd completely lost that chance now... but there was still hope left in this pathetic display of egos. "Syndrome, you're in no condition to be tossing insults. Mr. Incredible, kicking a man when he's down is hardly good sportsmanship." She glared at both of them in turn, but the tension had hardly ceased at all. She kept talking out of fear that another fight might break out. "This is a good deal for both of you."

"What benefit is there to working for a brain-dead muscle man!" Syndrome demanded, and it was on again.

"About as much benefit as there'd be to working with a two year old-"

"Mr. Incredible, please." Mirage put a hand up, sighing. Hopeless, the both of them. It was a rivalry that was clearly ordained by God. "You get out of prison, you get your company and most of your assets back. Mr. Incredible, you get invaluable knowledge of as many villains as you can think of and every invention designed to put them to justice. You don't have to get along; you only have to tolerate each other. Supers prefer to work alone and you'd be no exception to the rule. You two can sit here and bicker all you want, but that is the offer that's on the table and the decision is entirely up to you, Syndrome. Take it or leave it."

She'd expected him to come back with some kind of rude remark, or some kind of sound at all. She kept her face straight as he unexpectedly leaned back with an entirely too thoughtful expression that turned deep and broody. He brought a thumb nail up to his mouth, nibbling away while the hamsters turned the wheels in his head. She'd known he wouldn't outright reject such a generous offer. "I'll be forever known as a sell-out, bad for business...but I do miss flying and I've got a great idea for some modifications."

"Doesn't your mind have an off switch?" Mr. Incredible asked with intent to insult, but the response had been serious.

"I wish it did. Being an evil genius doesn't come easy." Syndrome had muttered behind his nibbling. Eventually his hand came back down to his side. "Fine."

"Not fine!" Mr. Incredible responded, voice laced with disbelief. He was supposed to be dead set on killing people! Mass chaos and wonton destruction! He was a Villain for God's sake! Nobody changed their alliance just like that! "You're okay with the idea of being laughed out of the bad-guy club and being endlessly hated by your baddy pals?"

"I was never _in_ the bad-guy club, and my 'pals' are acquaintances I'd rather not associate with. I've been wanting an excuse to put some of those guys in their place."

"That place being?"

"At my feet, of course, begging for their lives." Mr. Incredible put his palm into his face, turning his gaze on Mirage. He appeared to be begging her to change her mind. When she picked up her paperwork and handed it over to Syndrome once again however, he could do little but nod his head in defeat and leave the room in a huff.

"Frozone's gonna _love_ you."

_Can't wait to tell the others. They're never gonna believe this._


	4. What They Didn't Know

_If these NSA idiots think they can keep me caged up like an animal, they've got another thing coming._

Although the banter between Syndrome and Mr. Incredible had subsided since the super had removed himself and went ahead of them, Mirage knew well that it would be far from over. She and Syndrome had a short conversation afterwards, and by the end of it she'd helped the now ex-villain to his feet and headed towards the checkpoints, handing over the paperwork that wrote out his freedom in black and white. Syndrome hadn't cared much to speak to any of the inquiring minds, but he'd gone out of his way to give a personal fairwell to one of the old folks he'd eaten lunch with the day before.

"Don't let anybody change ya, Buddy." The old man had smiled, shaking Syndrome's hand. Mirage stood back from the lunch room area, watching curiously. Already making friends, was he?

"When all you do is win, how can you ever lose?" Syndrome smirked from his seat across the table. The man returned the expression, shaking his head.

"I ain't go a clue how yer gonna pull it off, but if ya need anything ya know who to call."

"Don't break a hip while I'm gone." The old man chuckled, nodding. They shook hands once again, and Syndrome returned to Mirage's side in a far better mood than he'd started with. She didn't inquire at first, allowing them to walk in silence towards their next destination. Before they reached it however, her curiosity overcame her.

"And who was that?"

"All part of the plan, babe. You'll see." The response was far more cryptic than she would've liked, but he'd entered the next door before she could question it. Rick stood on the other side of the door, nodding respectfully to both parties. Mr. Incredible was sitting off in a far corner, clearly brooding. Syndrome smiled pleasantly, but something about it had caused Rick to suddenly think twice about what he had agreed with only a few hours ago. He didn't allow Syndrome to see this however, instead putting his hand forward for a shake. It was received gracefully and only caused him further concern. This was a man on a mission, not someone looking for redemption.

"Mr. Dickers, it's a pleasure finally meeting the man behind the.. name."

"Skip the theatrics, kid. You're under a new set of rules now." As if on queue, several body guards appeared, one of which had leaned down to clamp what appeared to be a tracking device around Syndrome's ankle. He peered at it curiously, wondering just what it was made of and how he could take it apart later on if needed. While doing this, he hadn't noticed the needle coming for him until it was in his arm. He turned around with a shout, shooing the guard who'd done it. "From here on out, every breath you take, every move you make-"

"Every bond I break, every step I take, you'll be missing me?" There was silence in the room save for Syndrome's snickering. He stopped, looking around. "Oh, right. Super heroes. No sense of humor. Gotcha. So Dicks, this thing's a tracking device, but it isn't that simple." Syndrome's attention was back on the anklet, leaning down to get a better look and tamper with it. "In fact, it's my own design, tisk tisk. Guess I shouldn't ask what'll happen if I try to take it off."

"I imagine you'd rather be in the company of your own inventions then some second-rate military equipment."

"I get to keep _some_ of my pride, I suppose." He clicked the heel of his shoe on the linoleum, deciding that he'd have to re-adjust it later on for a better fit.

"Back on topic, please. You're under a new code now, so I suggest you familiarize yourself with it. Welcome to the NSA."

"Pretty boring welcoming party." But his comment had been lost upon deaf ears. The guards and Rick Dicker had removed themselves from the room, leaving Syndrome and Mirage with the sulking Mr. Incredible. The lean female wandered off for a moment, coming back with a change of clothes for Syndrome, who gladly obliged to change out of his prison-suit. When he re-emerged from the washroom he was dressed from head-to-toe in his best and looking entirely too full of himself. "Nothing says success like the smell of Armani." He smiled, straightening his tie and leaning over to brush off his shoes and straighten his cuff-links. Mirage shook her head, leading the two men back out to the limo. Before they entered however, Syndrome stopped to take a breath of the air that he'd missed.

In that moment, life was good.

While they traveled in the limo, Mr. Incredible took to glaring at the two seated across from him. Mirage was taking care of paperwork again and Syndrome was leafing through the book he'd been given that covered his new code of ethics and the details of his 'participation'. It took him all of three seconds per page, as if he were skimming the entire thing carelessly. Mr. Incredible scowled, raising an eyebrow. "You could give it a little more respect than that."

"Hm?"

"Do you plan on actually reading the damn thing?"

"I built functioning rocket boots at seven years old from a "rocket propulsion for dummies" book, and you're questioning my reading comprehension?"

"I'm questioning your motives." Syndrome who had previously had the book in front of his face finally lowered it, and the look behind it did nothing but infuriate the super. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it was going exactly as he wanted it to. All of these idiots were playing right into his hands! How was he the only one who could see it? A simple anklet wasn't going to keep Buddy Pine down no matter who's design it was of. "What the hell are you after, Buddy."

"I'm surprised, Mr. Incredible. I'm surprised that you of all people would find this new acquaintance so disturbing. Wasn't there a saying somewhere about keeping your friends close-"

"And your enemies closer." Mr. Incredible had finished the sentence, teeth gritted. Syndrome simply smiled. Mr. Incredible didn't know who looked more infuriating; a kid in a costume or a kid in an expensive business suit. He wanted to kill both and the feeling traveled well.

"This may very well be a grand enterprise for you, Mr. Incredible. The NSA is benefiting far more from my compliance than I am and so far as I'm under their jurisdiction, I'm no longer a threat to you. That hurts me to say it, but it rings true. Our rivalry can rot in its grave and leave the rest of Metroville none the wiser. Either you embrace the idea or you leave it behind, but one way or another you can't touch me. Section seven." The look on Mr. Incredible's face had lead Syndrome's smirk to grow wider, causing him to look almost cat-like. "I'm not a fool, Mr. Incredible and while you'd still like to think of me as a snotty ten year old begging to be your sidekick, times have changed. Besides," He snickered, bringing the book back up to his face. "You may very well just learn the secret to being the most successful CEO in Metroville history."

"Deception, fear tactics and a boring monologue?" Mr. Incredible hissed.

"I'd like to call it the gift of gab, my new friend. Good PR will get you places. Places like where we're going right - now."

_Oh, but if only you knew what was going on right under your nose._


	5. A Glorious Return

**Note:** If anybody knew the music I wrote my fics to, they'd never speak to me again. Time to frighten some folks.

**Currently Listening To:** Pink - Stupid Girls

_"Dickers' lost his mind!"_

_"Maybe Mirage isn't on our side after all..."_

_"And he kept the name Syndrome, too. What a smack in the face!"_

_"Are they working together or sleeping together?"_

_"Hard to tell sometimes. Maybe both?"  
><em>

_"What use is book smarts when you're getting fireballs thrown at you?"_

_"He'll just get in the way."_

Mr. Incredible would have rather been anywhere else in the world at that moment. The room that Mirage usually used to gather intelligence over her various monitors and computers had been expanded to include several work areas all littered with various objects, tools, and plans tacked to the walls along with a wide glass column that had already been filled with various equations. Syndrome had wasted no time in getting back to his usual work schedule which involved a lot more coffee than Mr. Incredible would've deemed safe for consumption. While it was undeniably fascinating to see the man at work in his own settings, he still held a high dislike for him. He was Syndrome, after all. Who needed a reason?

On this particular occasion Frozone and the rest of The Incredible family had been in that particular room getting a introduction to their next enemy from Mirage. She was dressed in her usual business clothing and all things now considered, it was as if nothing had changed. While she went over their mission, Syndrome was off to the side at one of his work benches with a pair of protective glasses on, zapping away at one of the cuffs he often wore on his wrists. He was in full costume, same as the rest of them.

"So he really wants us to bring this guy with us." Frozone raised an eyebrow, jamming a thumb over his shoulder. Mirage nodded pleasantly.

"He'll be more useful to you than you'd like to think."

"Maybe the bad guys'll laugh so hard, they'll turn themselves in!" Dash commented excitedly. Elastigirl had nothing at all to say, and Incredigirl had decided on her own to wander over towards the table for a better look. It was hard for her to believe that she'd ever see the man known as Syndrome again, let alone in the same room, let alone not trying to kill them.

"Whatcha doing?" She tilted her head, asking out of pure curiosity. He didn't look up from his work, instead commenting through the sparking.

"Too complicated to explain, girly - AHAH!" Incredigirl blinked as the wrist cuff sprung to life, a monitor on the side of it displaying various numbers in quick succession. It seemed a bit more complex than the last version she'd seen five years ago, but then again, the glance had been fleeting. Syndrome blew off the sparks, slapping it on his wrist and clicking it shut. He shook his arm several times to make sure it fit snugly. "I'd test it on you, but I doubt you'd live through the experience." He smirked.

"So can we quit kiddin' around and get this over with so we can get rid of you?" Frozone muttered. Mr. Incredible smiled.

"What, don't think I can keep up?" Syndrome picked up a glass from the table with the zero-point energy, flinging it against a wall and looking perfectly pleased as it smashed into bits.

"It doesn't matter what I think." He sighed, head nodding slowly.

"Oh come now, we're all friends here. You're allowed to be honest. I promise I won't cry." He had taken another glass at this point, tossing it up and down like a baseball with the energy. Reaction test, perhaps. He tossed the glass over his shoulder, looking back to see who had caught it, as it didn't smash. No glass in sight.. but no Dash in sight either.

"Think fast." Came his voice. Left side. Syndrome had caught the glass mere inches from his face. So he liked to play, did he?

"I think you're a kid with some toys that's gonna get himself killed."

"That so?" The second glass went smashing into the wall. Mirage cringed, sighing. Mere moments later he was inches from Frozone, peering up at him with a look no less wild than a Cheshire cat. The super didn't back down from his position, however, as if daring Syndrome to come closer. "Can't do it, you say?" He leaned even closer, smirking. "Watch me."

He blew them all away. He'd kept up, needed no supervision, and no protection. As expected, the Villains had chuckled at the idea of Syndrome working on the wrong side but what wasn't expected was the very same villains begging for their lives to be spared at the end of the battle. Mr. Incredible wanted absolutely no knowledge of what modifications Syndrome had put on his zero-point energy to make it look so agonizing and terrifying, nor did he want to be a part of the congratulations he'd received for going above and beyond expectations. He'd gone home miserable.

"Gotta admit, Bob. The kid knows his stuff." He and Lucious sat out on Bob's porch in lawn chairs later that night, beers cracked open. The blonde super groaned.

"Tell me you're not falling for his bullshit too."

"Don't buy it for a minute." There was several moments of silence between them as they took their respective drinks. Lucious spoke again not much later, though the subject was the same much to Bob's dismay. "But think about it for a minute. Syndrome does so much as sneeze and the NSA is all over him. Probably can't even use the bathroom without someone staring over his shoulder. Even if he _is_ planning some crazy plot for revenge, how's he gonna pull it off without getting noticed?" Bob raised a hand to his eye level, rubbing at his temples.

"So you're basically trying to say that he's trustworthy."

"Wouldn't go that far, but maybe you're just reading too far into it, is all I'm saying."

"Am I the only person who hasn't forgotten how many of my friends are six feet under because of him?"

"They weren't just your friends, Bob."

"Then you get the point, Lucious." When the man known as Frozone chanced a look over at his friend, he wished he hadn't. His eyes were stony, dead serious and set in resolve. He knew then that the conversation would go nowhere. The only person more stubborn than Mr. Incredible was Syndrome. It was almost ironic to be caught in a situation like this. Lucious shook his head and turned his attention back to the sky.

"See where it is in a few weeks, then you can make up your mind."

"It was made up five years ago."

* * *

><p>"We're right on schedule." A man smiled in a dark room, cell phone held daintily at his ear.<p>

"Keep it that way. You know how he is about deadlines."

"Oh, I do." And with that, the conversation had ended. He clicked the phone shut, spinning in his chair. The room he sat in was lit only by the dozens of computer screens tracking the progress of various pieces of equipment that would soon be put together by a team of engineers so large that only a millionaire could afford them and coded by the best hackers in the country - no - the world. This was the most elaborate plan he'd ever been pitched, and he'd taken it willingly; The name attached to it was reason enough. He'd heard stories of the man's reign of terror in earlier days, had been dying to meet him and never had the opportunity.. but this time was different. He'd build something that its originator would be proud of. Something so colossal that the world would shake... He stood up from his chair, moving out of the office swiftly. He dropped his hands on the railing of a nearby platform, examining the invention from above.

_When this baby is complete, Viral will be a household name. Your return shall be glorious indeed, Syndrome._


	6. For The Sake of Revenge

**Note:** What? There's Synlet in this story? Finally?

* * *

><p><em>"Maybe he's not so bad after all."<em>

_"The kid's a damn genius!"_

_"No shit, Sherlock."_

_"Single? For real?"_

_"Alright, that's just creepy."_

_"Ladies, ladies.. can we quit talking about me in all these italics?"_

"So we finally meet!" An enthusiastic villain cackled as he was met by the very person he'd been expecting. Right on time, too. So the rumors were true!

"That we do, Viral. Is this the part where we start doing bad guy good guy stuff?" Syndrome peered down at the time displayed on his cuff, already looking bored and ready to leave. It was late at night, well after any of the normal supers would be out on vigilante work. He'd gone out for a breath of fresh air against the wishes of NSA; While he wished he could explain that being stuck in a room with only his thoughts and the tools to make whatever came to mind was the most boring thing he'd ever done, the statement would've been lost on deaf ears anyhow. So here he was, wandering down the street with no other agenda, only to be met by someone he'd hoped never to see.

"Ya must be a damned good actor to put up with them sissies for as long as ya have."

"Isn't half as bad as I'd thought it would be. Can't say that I mind being called the Tony Stark of Metroville." He shrugged casually. The look of concern in Viral's eyes was enough to get a raised eyebrow out of his acquaintance. This was hardly how he was expecting his first meeting to go with the famed Syndrome. He'd been expecting quite a bit more enthusiasm or at least a mad cackle or.. something. Instead, he had a 'super' sitting on the hood of a car staring at him with what he thought was apathy. "Something the matter?"

"Did they.. do something to ya?"

"Not that I know of, why?"

"Yer just.. not what I expected."

"It's two in the morning and I haven't had any sleep in days. The dramatics'll have to wait for another time." It was by that time that Viral had noticed the anklet. So they weren't kidding about the constant surveillance thing. "And generally, when you interrupt a man on a nightly stroll, the conversation isn't going to be outstanding. Not to mention the fact that I should've killed you or at least made an attempt on your life several minutes ago."

"All's good." Viral sighed dramatically. "The old man wishes ya well."

"Glad to hear it." With that, Syndrome hopped down from the hood and continued on his walk as if he'd never had the conversation. He stopped after several steps, however, turning around to face his new enemy. It was a fairly older man, a few years older than himself perhaps. Long black hair tied back, looked too thin. Decent choice of clothing, perhaps, just a simple leather jacket and jeans. Hardly imposing though his eyes almost appeared to glow for how sunk in they were. Syndrome sighed. "Next time you decide to bother me, look the part."

**2 Weeks Later** -** Mirage's "Base of Operations"**

Violet couldn't sleep.

She'd taken to wandering the halls that night, the solitary lights on the top of the walls lulling her senses and calming her mind. She'd decided to stay the night after a particularly long battle with an equally annoying guy calling himself Viral. Spider-minions? Really? A breath of fresh air was just what she needed, and the exit wasn't too many halls off. As she walked however, she was distracted by the light coming from a room in the distance, and some soft conversation. She recognized the voices immediately and for curiosities sake, disappeared into the shadows for a listen.

"I really wish you wouldn't work yourself to death all the time." Mirage sighed, elbows propped up on the shoulders of Syndrome, who appeared to be in deep thought over something in front of him. He'd taken his attention off of the problem and leaned back in his chair, however, smirking.

"Rome wasn't built in a day, babe."

"It also wasn't built by one man with a bad case of insomnia." Mirage was clearly exhausted herself, or perhaps had woken up in the middle of the night and happened to stumble upon him like Violet had now. He reached his hands up, rubbing his eyes and making no attempt to get up from his spot.

"And I'm gonna lose sleep until I figure this problem out. I'll catch up later. Promise." Unfortunately she didn't appear to believe him, but reluctantly did as she was told. Not before mumbling, however. "You should start keeping those promises. You've got a lot of catching up to do." She wandered out of the room and down the hall, barely inches away from Violet's form. The raven-haired girl only dropped her disappearing act when she was sure that Mirage was out of sight, and moved to stand in the doorway, peering at Syndrome from a distance.

He was back to his problem, a cup of coffee in one hand and a pen in the other. As she now saw, it was a rather elaborate math issue, written out over a glass board in front of him. It was Greek to her; how he made sense out of it was beyond the teen. He sighed heavily, taking a drink of the coffee, removing several numbers in the equation and re-writing different ones. She stiffened as he spoke, not realizing that he'd seen her there... or sensed her at the very least. "Isn't it past your bed-time?"

"Wasn't aware that I had one." She replied gently, pushing her hair from eyes for a moment. Against her better judgement she moved into the room, pointing out the wall of math problems. "What's this all about?"

"Quantum physics, basically." Syndrome tilted his head towards Violet, smirking at the head-bob she did as a signal for him to elaborate. "Nothing you'd understand in the time it took you to get back to what you were doing." Violet knew that this was his way of telling her to shoo, but she took it as a challenge.

"Oh really? Try me." The look she received was no less than haughtily bemused, but he got up from his chair, spun the pen around in his hand, walking over to the end of the board and tapping the pen on it while taking another drink of his coffee. One problem at a time he explained what it was about and why it was there, and how it correlated with the next number beside it. Laws of gravity, all the science that Violet had slept through and Syndrome couldn't help but laugh by the time he'd reached the end of the problem; She couldn't have looked any more lost.

"Game, set, match?" He asked, moving over to rap her over the head with his pen before returning to his seat. She cringed, rubbing the spot and nodding solemnly. Without any adue Syndrome was back to his math solving, still as a statue and staring at those last few numbers. He assumed that she would've taken the queue, but instead of leaving she spoke again. "Where'd you learn all this?"

"Books, Google, and a college professor." He responded snarkily, eyes still on the problem at hand. Why was this causing him so much damned trouble? Violet rolled her eyes, wandering along the wall and giving it all another once-over before muttering, "I hate my professors."

"So did I." He leaned back in his chair, changing positions of thought. She peered at him for a moment, moving her hair again. In that moment she could think of no particular reason why her father disliked him so, even after what should've been a reconciliation. He'd likely scold her for being this close or even bothering with a conversation in the first place. Maybe that's why she'd stayed... She blinked, shaking her head.

"Wait. Shouldn't you still -be- in college? How old are you anyway?"

"Ah-hah. World's best kept secret." His attention was again diverted, pen raised above his head. He paused for dramatic effect, letting the girl stand there with an eyebrow cocked and head tilted sideways. "Twenty eight and a half."

"Really?" She sounded shocked, and caused him to give her the same look.

"Why would I lie?"

"I don't know, but - wait, I'm -"

"Nineteen and a quarter? Yeah, I know."

"How did-"

"Someone was talking about it. Might wanna watch out for those guys, they're givin' me the creeper vibe." He'd finished off his coffee by that time, putting his pen down to raise his arms and wiggle his fingers dramatically. Violet put her hands on her hips, smirking. _As if you weren't creepy yourself!_ She couldn't help but think as his attention was once again pulled to the board.

"Guess minds are a dangerous thing."

"I'm guessing you don't recall much of the first time we met."

"I remember it perfectly." The response was more blunt than he was expecting. "It's done, though. Unlike my dad, I'm willing to let bygones be bygones." That particular statement he had most definitely not expected. "People can change, and he doesn't seem to get that. Even Dash just goes along with the bandwagon, but what do kids know anyway." The suspicion in his eyes was apparent to her and what reason did he have to believe it? Outside of keeping him out of prison, the family had done very little to accept the fact that he was indeed one of them now. "I'm not them." As if saying it would ease his mind. In reality, it was her own mind she was settling.

"Is that why you're here?" He asked, sounding a bit harsher than he'd meant.

"I couldn't sleep. Took a walk, and you just happened to be on the way. Should I leave you alone now?" There were several moments of silence as he pondered the response to her question, and she took a breath of relief at the end of it.

"What's the trouble?" He seemed genuinely curious, attention pulled away from the problem for good that time. She wanted to tell him - he'd be the only one actually willing to listen these days - but she couldn't help herself.

"Nothing I could explain in less time than it would take you to finish that problem."

They talked for three more hours about everything from nutty professors to boy problems. Some subjects raised hairs, others were more somber and by the end of it all Syndrome had nearly jumped out of his seat in excitement. That was the answer all along! Why hadn't he seen it sooner? If he were of any other mind he would've picked her up and hugged her, but formalities and potential parental backlash had him keeping his hands to himself. Syndrome had found himself enjoying the conversation perhaps more than he should've, and by the time they'd parted ways he couldn't help but smile. Pretty witty girl.

Violet was exhausted by the time she'd finally gotten back to her room, but even as she'd hit her bed with a tired plop, her eyes remained open to stare at the ceiling in contemplation. Was the person she'd met five years ago the same person she'd just talked to five minutes ago? Don't trust him, he's just manipulating everyone her father would say... but how could that be? She wasn't swayed to any belief, and he even helped with her math homework, explaining it better than any of her teachers had. So far as she could tell he was nothing but a good person stuck in a bad situation, but even in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but bring forth the memories she'd all but buried.

_You could've become something greater than I'll ever be, you had everything in the world you could ever want, and you gave it all up for the sake of revenge. Why?_


	7. Purely Professional

**Note:** Hey guys! SO sorry for how long Recidivus took to get back on track! It's been hectic down here, and with most things, sometimes the inspiration just disappears. With any luck I should be able to finally get moving! Thanks to all who waited so very patiently! I'd also like to apologize to the Synlet community, for it seems as though we may not be headed that way after all!_  
><em>

_"This Viral guy sure is a character."_

_"Spiders? Really? Gross!"_

_"Go web go! Shazam!"_

_"Har har har."  
><em>

"Yes, thank you." Mirage sat back in her desk chair, hanging up the phone gently. She took the moment of peace for several breaths and a sip of tea. The last week had been all but pleasant for her and the return of her co-worker hadn't made things any easier. Regardless of his attempt to fire her back in the hospital, Syndrome still felt the need to send people to her as if she were still working for him. It wasn't a difficult task and she took the extra work willingly; a little extra work was what she needed to break the stress.

It was a small reflection of light that had caught her attention at first, then a slight movement upon her desk. Mirage sat up straight, eyeballing the area. After several long moments, she'd seen the strange movement again. In one quick motion she'd smacked the creature running across her desk. Since when did this place start getting bugs? Mirage sighed for a moment, but was then prompted to take a second look at what she'd squished. That wasn't any ordinary bug. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a mechanical spider. She picked the mini robot up between her fingers, examining it; this wasn't Syndrome's work. The red-head often and proudly manufactured his own creations with his own hands, while this little spider seemed almost mass-produced. Perhaps the new villain on the streets? Mirage frowned. Perhaps 'new' wasn't exactly the correct term.

"Violet? Mm, is Buddy down the hall?"

"Been holed up all day, working on some big project or something." Mirage nodded from the phone, packing up the tiny spider along with various other paperwork she had to take down that way. The conversation with Parr's daughter had been short and sweet. Within moments she was in front of her destination, pushing open the door casually. Syndrome sat at one of the many work benches, toiling over something that Mirage couldn't see from her distance. He was using his gauntlets to power a nearly needle-sized soldering iron. She didn't want to sneak up on him and cause damage to whatever he was working on, but whatever music was playing on a stereo nearby was enough to drown out her footfalls. An old rock station left the woman to reminisce about her teen years as she strode forward. Oh, to be young again.

"Not exactly what I'd call a big project." Mirage smirked. She could only assume that Syndrome had seen her on the way in, for instead of jumping and screaming like a girl, he merely lifted his eyes up for a moment before returning to his work, one foot tapping along to the music.

"And a medical marvel if it works." He muttered as sparks flew from the tiny piece of metal. Mirage took a step back to let the area cool down before coming up beside him and setting the paperwork down along with a pen. To her surprise he stopped what he was doing and pulled it over, clicking the pen and reading down the list. He actually gave a damn about his finance department today? The papers were signed only moments later and pushed aside. Mirage collected them, patting it down on the table. She could've just left. She took a deep breath as Syndrome returned to his work, sitting down on a stool across from him.

"What's really going on." She asked softly, which caused Syndrome to pause and peer up at her with a look she'd come to despise.

"Is something supposed to be going on?" He responded just as kindly.

"I'm not stupid, Buddy." Mirage's eyes narrowed and the mechanical spider was procured and tossed upon the workbench. Syndrome poked it with his soldering iron, but the aura of his attitude seemed to have faded suddenly. He kept his teeth gritted tightly while the woman continued. "Things are going hunky-dory for you for the first time in your life, and now all of a sudden a guy that we fired ten years ago is knocking on your doorstep. You've been pointedly avoiding me, and then I find this in my office! What are you up to?"

"Nothing you'd be interested in." He responded casually.

"I'm extremely interested in Viral. Especially considering the circumstances under which he first left."

"He's just another guy."

"Another guy who's mood swings make you look tame!"

"Nothing is going on, Mirage."

"So you'd rather me find out myself that you've been bullshitting this entire organization for months."

"If that's what-"

"It's a matter of when, Buddy, not if, and you know it as well as I do." Again his mood appeared to change, this time to something of a grudging respect for the woman. It was true that he'd hired the best he could find for the Kronos project and Mirage was no exception. That and her lack of proper name usage. He couldn't have felt any more like a child being lectured for bad behavior. Mirage clutched the paperwork with white knuckles while her former cohort deliberated over 'fessing up and putting the whole facade of being a good guy to rest.

"I tell you what I'm doing and I get reported to the PSA and thrown straight back in jail. I don't tell you and you find out with the same result. I'm not really liking the odds here. Is there a third option?" He answered with enough gall to make her sick. She should have known that he'd do something like this, should have never let him out of the prison. Unfortunately she had nothing to go off of, so the fake super-hero was safe from harm for the time being. Not knowing what stage his plans were at drove her absolutely crazy; she wanted to reach over and smack him as hard as she could. And now she had Viral to deal with as well!

Instead of responding to his asshattery, the woman rose to her feet and stalked out of the room. He wanted an argument, and he wasn't going to get his way. Mirage had every intention of slamming that door open and getting as far from him as she could, but a cold feeling in her chest stopped her at the door frame. She knew she shouldn't drag it on. She knew she'd never win against him and when it came to matters of the heart he was mind-blowingly emotionless. But something kept here there, and something moved her voice to speak.

"There was a time when I could call you a friend. I sometimes wonder what happened."

"You called me a lot more than that. I imagine the whole betrayal thing kind of put it to rest." Mirage squeezed her eyes shut, cringing from the reminder. Her nails dug into the corners of the paperwork and she could feel his eyes burning into her back. It seemed as though he'd never be okay with the fact that she had allowed his prey to get away, even five years later. But even that being as it was, things had changed so much well before then.

"You're not the same person I used to know."

"Perhaps you didn't know me very well, then."

"You don't even know yourself." She muttered through nearly gritted teeth. Syndrome raised an eyebrow and tilted his head.

"Are you sure you're not the one who's confused?" The comment had been enough to set Mirage over the edge. She whirled around on her heel, tossing the paperwork down and stomping her way over towards him. He'd expected some kind of angry outburst, but he hadn't expected her to swing at him. He'd gotten a strong sock to the jaw before jumping off the stool to avoid a second barrage. Only moments later both of her wrists had been caught and she'd been pushed hard against a nearby wall. She hadn't even realized that she'd been crying until then. He was mere inches away. She could only dare to look over his shoulder, tried desperately to ignore the breath on her neck and a closeness they hadn't shared for years regardless of the circumstance.

"This isn't the hill you want to die on." He whispered gently, releasing her wrists only after he was sure she wouldn't attempt to sock him again. Mirage leaned against the wall heavily and against her better judgement chanced a glance upwards. The motion had been a mistake, for now she had been unable to look away from those same charming blue eyes that had taken her so long ago. It seemed as though they were the only thing that remained constant and unchanging about the hectic man. Oh, how she wanted to just forget it all and go back to the way things used to be. Simple, predictable, heck, even a little romantic.

It was a hand upon her chin that had brought Mirage back to reality and even that had felt entirely too surreal. She tilted her head away from his kiss which landed on her jaw instead. This couldn't happen. Not here. It took everything she had to push him away, beg him to stop in a cracked whisper, ignore all the well-placed mentions of how much he'd missed her. He'd always had an unearthly way of seducing her with little effort; Mirage had to leave the room before she did something she'd regret later. He hadn't attempted to follow her. She hadn't picked up her paperwork on the way out, instead closing the door behind her and leaning on it heavily, holding back tears and several years worth of pent up anger. In that moment, she hated herself. To show such weakness towards him, even after all the time they'd spent apart... and then she hated him.

"Yeah, Jack and Co. can come on down, pretty sure it's finished." Syndrome sighed over his bench, taking the remaining time of working on the little gadget to clear his head. He knew that he shouldn't have gone that far, but in that situation, he could hardly help himself. She was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and throwing all caution to the wind had sounded like a good idea at the time. Perhaps he'd catch up with her later; there was no ignoring the facts after something like that. What was happening at that moment was more important, however. Jack-Jack, his mother and Violet had arrived.

"So, explain that again in plain English, if you could." Elastigirl tilted her head after Syndrome had gone over the entire spiel in regards to his newest invention. Violet had the very same lost look as when he'd been explaining quantum physics. He shook his head and handed the ring-shaped device to Jack-Jack, who examined it much like a boy of his age would; with all the fascination in the world.

"Basically, if it works how its supposed to, Jack won't be having any more episodes. It doesn't kill the power, just contains the outbursts. Hasn't been tested yet since he's a special case, but the worst thing that'll happen is.. well. It'll need adjustments. No big deal." Syndrome shrugged casually, and all three of the Incredibles family nodded in a final understanding. The little thank-you he'd received was enough to make him grin, and it was admittedly a good feeling when the person he'd been trying hardest to convince of his innocence finally approved of his work. The whole situation with Viral had been put out of his mind by the time the boy and his mother had finally left. Violet had hung back, sitting on a stool while Syndrome put away the tools he'd been using.

"Do you have any idea what's up with Mirage? She was a little ruffled earlier."

"Just ah.. some personal issues, I'm guessing."

"Don't suppose it has anything to do with that?" He looked over at her, blinking as she tapped her cheek.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Just a little. Looks like she got you good, unless you like hitting yourself."

"The woman has arms of steel. I'm not convinced that she's not at least partially super." Syndrome rolled his eyes.

"So, what's the issue?" He'd finally finished putting his tools away. Instead of sitting down across from the young woman, he remained standing and leaned against the workbench instead, smirking with an expression of defeat.

"Wouldn't be able to explain it in the time it would take you to get to the meeting you're going to be late for." Violet blinked as Syndrome tapped his watch with a matter-of-fact smile. The raven-haired girl gasped suddenly, speedily thanking him before racing out the door. He'd memorized her entire class schedule after several math help sessions, and suddenly felt like a living planner. What would that girl do without him? He shook his head and snickered, heading out the door and locking it behind him. The trip back to his room had been short and he'd taken the extra time to change into something comfortable; a casual button-up shirt and some slacks would just have to do when there was no point in flashing around in a nice suit.

For the next several hours he'd busied himself with a book and his own homework; learning a fourteenth language. Finnish was something he should've learned as one of the first, but for some reason he'd never found a use for it. He still didn't have a use for it, but with all the extra time on his hands it was either that or get cooped up in his office for hours; contrary to the popular belief of the building, it wasn't his favorite place in the world. At some point the conversation with Violet had come back to the front of his mind. After an inspection in the mirror, it appeared as though any trace of their fight had disappeared. The argument's subject was still unresolved, however. He toiled over the options for a bit, eventually opting to go with the first sense.

Mirage had finally calmed down after a long shower and some hot tea. She'd wanted to completely forget everything that had just occurred, but the best she'd been able to do was ignore it for a while. She hadn't expected a knock on her door, and certainly hadn't expected a certain Mr. Pine to be standing outside with a plaintive gaze. She wanted to slam the door in his face, and he could see it.

"We need to talk." He'd stated bluntly, and she'd let him in. Unfortunately for her, talking was something they hadn't done. Between them was a mutual understanding that trust was something that would never truly exist anymore. Harmony was one thing they'd never be able to live in or around, and there wasn't a chance in hell that he'd ever tell her what he was planning. For a while, at least, things were as they used to be, and she was happy with that. It was Violet who'd chanced upon the open door and had a glance inside before closing it and wandering off with raised eyebrows.

_So much for that 'purely professional' relationship._


	8. Hell Hath No Fury

**Currently Listening To:** Britney Spears - Inside Out

_"Phase one of plan is complete. The machine is fully functional."_

_"Best news I've had all week."_

_"It's only going to get better, Syndrome. I guarantee it."_

Mirage had had better mornings. Less guilt-ridden ones for sure. Less disappointing ones, most definitely.

Buddy had vanished while she'd been asleep without so much as a goodbye. While Mirage had come to expect this kind of behavior from him, it hadn't made her feel any better. The shower had sucked, and her coffee hadn't tasted all that great. Regardless, she'd gone to work just the same as always, passing by her co-workers in the hall with a pleasant smile and wave. They didn't need to know about it and she wasn't about to give them any hints. Mirage paused outside of the door to the office she shared with him, taking a breath. _Just forget it._

"Good...morning?" Mirage opened the door, instantly stopped by what she saw. There was no Syndrome to be found, but several NSA officials were scattered around the office in his place. Her eyebrows furrowed as Rick Dickers turned away from her computer screen with a look that could only be described as thoroughly miffed. Mr. Incredible was among them as well, shaking his head.

"Syndrome has been missing for the past four hours. We've been attempting to track him via the chip in his arm, but someone or something has been jamming the scanners. Do you know anything about this?" He asked Mirage with a dead serious expression. She cursed at herself internally for being too late to discover what he'd been up to. She did nothing but shake her head negatively. Mirage moved quickly over towards her desk, shooing the officials away from it and pulling up Syndrome's last known coordinates; several blocks from the NSA office. From there the information became fuzzy and disjointed, and as she attempted to get a reading now, found that Dickers had told the truth. Syndrome was gone.

"Just blow him up already." Mr. Incredible spoke. Mirage peered at the button she held in her possession, their last resort if he'd decided to do anything crazy. Unfortunately for Mr. Incredible, he seemed to be the only person in the room besides Dickers who agreed with the sentiment. Syndrome had been on his best behavior since he'd arrived there, been perfectly pleasant, and given nobody any reason to think ill of him. Even Violet, who had just entered the room, nodded plaintively.

"It could just be faulty equipment, Dad. We shouldn't jump the gun on someone who doesn't deserve it."

"Oh, he deserves it alright." The strong man muttered.

"And besides. He's right there." Violet sighed, clicking on the large screen television. The entire room turned their attention towards the screen, eyes focused upon the happenings as the news crew filmed it. Syndrome was in the middle of a downtown street, and Viral stood not far off. They appeared to be having some kind of conversation, but the microphones weren't picking it up. All they could see was Syndrome taking several steps backwards as the street suddenly flooded with mechanical spiders, then taking to the sky as they launched themselves at him. Just like that the area had gone into a panic and the battle royal had begun.

"There's no way he can take that guy by himself. I'll be back." Violet muttered, sprinting out the door. Mr. Incredible opened his mouth to call her back, but instead turned his attention back to the screen with a suspicious glare. Something wasn't right about this. He ran out the door as well, leaving Mirage and the NSA officials to watch the game play out. Syndrome's only advantage was flight but even that didn't seem to be doing him much good because Viral was making himself incredibly difficult to get a good shot on without getting in his spiders' grabbing range. Thankfully most of Syndrome's flying practice had paid off, and a few good maneuvers had him within zero-point range. Viral had run for it, narrowly avoiding several blasts with a gleeful laugh. Wait a minute. Gleeful? Mirage leaned in close, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Then it began to make sense.

"We need to get down there. Now!" Mirage yelled, leaping out of her chair and sprinting after the long-gone supers, completely ignorant to the cup of coffee that had spilled all over the floor. The NSA crew looked confused for a moment, but followed their orders. Mirage had barely been able to pick up her phone as she raced towards downtown; it was Rick.

"What's going on, Mirage."

"I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner," She apologized quickly, taking a hard right into the exit ramp. "The jig's up, it's a staged fight."

"Staged? What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Syndrome's contract with us is terminated."

"Bob was right..."

"We'll argue over who the correct one was after a bomb squad is called down here. We need to set up a perimeter and evacuate the civilians ASAP."

"And the bomb?"

"Don't bother, it's not going to work." Mirage hung up the phone angrily, screeching to a stop as the news-covered fight finally came into sight. She stepped out of the car to get a better look, eyes falling upon Violet who was a block ahead of her and running towards the scene. Mirage attempted to call her, but she was already well out of hearing range with all the extra noise. Mirage gulped nervously, starting on her way there as well. Syndrome loved big entrances and even bigger exits, and all she could do was pray that this one wasn't nearly as bad as she was expecting it to be.

Meanwhile, Violet had finally arrived at the scene only to hit the ground as Syndrome flew low over her head at a speed she couldn't even determine. He was headed straight towards viral who narrowly avoided Syndrome's well-aimed shots time and time again. The crazed spider-man cackled manically, causing Violet to pause as she scrambled back to her feet.

"I'd always imagined you'd be a good fight, but never in my life had I expected this! Absolutely impressive, hah!" Syndrome took the compliment well, smirking to himself as his shots aimed closer and closer to the villain. A slip-up on Viral's part gave Syndrome the perfect opportunity which he took, exploding the area underneath Viral's feet. The older man went flying and Syndrome banked a hard left, catching the other villain up in his zero-point energy and slamming him unceremoniously into the ground. Before Viral could fight his way back to his feet Syndrome was upon him, one hand around his neck and looking entirely too malicious. The smile upon his face was almost.. frightening.

"So now that you've done what I wanted, give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you and get your ass off my payroll."

"You'd kill the man responsible for your rescue?" Viral raised an eyebrow.

"Not yet." Syndrome smirked. A charge lit up on the glove that didn't hold Viral down, and for a moment the spider keeper thought he might be sweating.

"Syndrome!" Violet's voice broke the moment apart, distracting Syndrome's attention from his prey. Those few seconds had been all Viral had needed to make his escape. Violet gasped as Syndrome had been blown several feet back before he could blink. He landed hard into the side of a parked car, head hitting the metal hard enough to put stars in his eyes. The raven-haired girl had been just about to run over towards him, but the reappearance of Viral's spiders had stopped her dead. Instead of attacking her however, they surrounded Syndrome. Viral took several steps towards him, smiling pleasantly.

"You started this little nightmare, Syndrome, and I intend to be here long enough to finish it. We've still got a very long way to go."

At that moment, Rick had turned his attention towards the tracking screen of Mirage's computer; Syndrome had appeared again and while it hadn't been needed, his location was again pinpointed. His eyes fell on the button that would blow the man to pieces, contemplating its use. A good number of people were within the blast radius of the object, including Mirage. Without proper warning, he wasn't sure if Violet would put up a shield in time. The phone ringing at his side distracted the decision temporarily until he heard the voice on the other end. Mirage's voice was cracked, but her orders were clear.

"Hit it."

_Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, Buddy.  
><em>


	9. Promises To Keep

**Currently Listening To:** Paramore - Let The Flames Begin

"Are you absolutely sure? That explosive is rigged to take out half a city block."

"I'm sure, Rick." Mirage took a breath as the man hung up, peering back over at the man against the car. He had finally regained the majority of his sight, though it was still fuzzy. Syndrome blinked several times, but a different sound had caused him to look down immediately. Viral's attention had been pulled as well as Violet's. The anklet he wore had beeped, signaling the twenty second count-down. They were really gonna blow him up! Syndrome's eyes moved towards viral, then Violet... and then Mirage. She held her cell phone to her ear, but he'd been unable to read the expression upon her face. What he hadn't known was that it was his own voice she had been listening to; she'd missed a message earlier.

"Not yet, Syndrome." Viral smiled, and suddenly an army of tiny spiders converged upon the former hero, swarming the beeping bomb and tearing apart the innards like a well-oiled machine. Syndrome kept his teeth gritted, cringing as the seconds ticked into the single digits. Violet shielded herself and Mirage in preparation for the blast and even the spider keeper looked ready to run for it. Five, four, three, two...

"Disengaged." The little robot voice that emitted from the device around Syndrome's ankle nearly caused him to cry out, but his voice was caught in his throat. He let out a breath, gasping for another as he realized he'd been holding it the entire time. Viral laughed, and the spiders removed what was left of the device. Before Syndrome could celebrate his narrow escape from death, he found himself screaming. One of the spiders had crawled up his arm and stuck him with a rather decent-sized needle, fishing out the chip that tracked his location. It ended up being something of a bloody mess, but the microscopic item had been found and discarded. Syndrome struggled to his feet, ignoring the steady flow of red dirtying up the street beside his feet. Mirage had dropped her phone and looked unsteady on her own two feet. Violet had allowed the force field to go down, taking several steps towards the situation.

"Congratulations, Syndrome. You're officially a free man." Viral announced.

"It's not true," Violet started, shaking her head. "Not after all you've done!"

"Sorry, hun. I picked my side twenty years ago. But thank you for letting me live at least one dream for a while." He winked at her, turning towards Viral. Violet stood amazed, unable to move. She'd defended this guy, gave him the benefit of the doubt against her entire family's wishes. All the time they'd spent together had been a lie, and he'd even had the gall to play around with Mirage's emotions. She felt sick, taken advantage of. Then, she felt angry and betrayed. No way would he leave her like this, no way would he not pay for this!

It was a slight change in Viral's expression that had prompted Syndrome to turn around and hit Violet with zero-point energy as she'd conjured up a force field to throw at him. He shook his head, tisking lightly. "I really don't wanna fight you, hun. I'm kinda bleeding out here." He motioned slightly towards the arm that had her frozen, which was still dripping. The little spider had really done a number to him and he was indeed looking a bit pale and unsteady now. "If you absolutely insist, though." He smiled sadly, and Violet's eyes widened as the ground began to shake.

_Mirage... run..._

She'd hardly heard the girl's voice as the sight of a newly built omni-droid filled the city block with screams of terror. Syndrome released Violet from the energy and took off without a look behind him. Viral smiled with a half-assed salute, disappearing as Mr. Incredible joined the fray. Violet could only assume that he'd taken the wrong exit without her mother there to give him directions, but now his eyes were trained on the retreating red-head. Unfortunately he'd be unable to give the man chase, for the robot had finally made its way towards the group and now began its rampage upon those whom it might've once worked beside.

Mirage moved to a safe distance while the Incredible family and company took care of the omni-droid. As time passed, Rick Dickers had also arrived on the scene along with the bomb squad, far too late to make a difference. A short conversation had ensued between the two and the robot had been taken down nearly half an hour later. The remaining time that day had been dedicated to news crews announcing Syndrome's change of alliance and questioning how they all had been duped. It was enough to cause a city-wide panic, and even a small movement of people claiming that the Apocalypse was on its way. Through the entire ordeal, his voice had stuck in her head, replayed as though she was still there watching his life flash before his eyes for a second time. In that short moment, she'd regretted telling Dickers to hit that button, hated the look of grave acceptance in Syndrome's eyes as the last seconds ticked away. This was the way that things had to be.

_Hey babe, sorry for the vanishing act, it's gonna be a busy day today,_ he'd said. There had been a pause, as if he were looking for words. _Look. You were right about Viral, so I'll save you the trouble and a little disappointment when I don't come back today. Hero work is fun, but my real work was far from over; I'm just finishing the era that I started. Maybe you and I won't ever be on the same page, but if it makes you feel any better, yesterday wasn't meaningless. Oh, and you're fired. For real this time._

"How do you feel?" Viral asked pleasantly while his spiders tittered away at the nearly passed-out Syndrome's arm. They were in a dark room, lit only by dozens of computer screens; it was Viral's home away from home. The long-haired man worked diligently at the single keyboard, not bothering to look behind him at Syndrome.

"Like shit." Syndrome's response had hardly been above a whisper. He fought to stay conscious while the little doctor spiders patched up the damage they'd done previously. It had taken a little spider tourniquet to give them an opportunity to start sewing, which they'd done as quickly as their little legs could manage. After the response to Viral, he felt as though he'd be sick from the room that refused to stop spinning. He knew that he was only suffering from a pretty bad case of blood loss, but the effort it took to stay awake was more than he would've ever expected. Syndrome leaned over and lay down on the couch he'd previously been sitting up on, raising a weak hand to his head. Viral sighed as Syndrome's breathing increased; perhaps it had been a little worse than expected.

"Take as long as you need to get back to speed. Your part doesn't come for a bit longer."

"And let you slit my throat in my sleep? Funny." He forced the snark out, causing Viral to shake his head. What a trooper.

"Unlike you, I hold a certain respect for my fellow evil-doers. Besides, it wouldn't be a sound decision to remove the main character in the story, would it? Your usefulness has far from run out. We'll figure out who lives and who dies when it's all said and done." When Viral had chanced a look behind him, he smirked sadly; Syndrome hadn't been able to keep himself awake for the entire spiel. The little spiders finished their work and clamored off of their patient. They crawled up onto their master's desk, leaving little bloody needle-marks on the woodwork as they crawled back into the monitors. One of them gave a mechanical squeak as it was picked up and taken off its course. He ran a casual finger along its tiny leg, putting the now blood-stained digit into his mouth with a smile.

_But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep._


	10. Love, Viral

**Note: **Chapter 10, time to celebrate!**  
><strong>

**Currently Listening To:** BoA - Scream

_"Feeling better yet?"_

_"Have you been slipping something into my drink?"_

_"You should really try getting some sun, Syndrome. You're so very pale."_

_"Stop changing the subject!"_

_"Don't worry, I've got it all covered."_

_"Viral!"_

The following weeks had been no less than chaos for the supers.

The city of Metroville was in an uproar and it was all anybody could do not to give in to the sudden and malicious attacks against them. Viral, with Syndrome's borrowed technology, gave hell and high water to the former hero's comrades while he recovered safely underground. This lead many a super to wonder if Viral was working alone, or if he'd dispatched of Syndrome himself after their fiasco downtown. His omni-droids had nearly taken over fifteen city blocks, but their creator was never anywhere to be seen.

"Syndrome can build anything within the realm of possibility to pit against us, and Viral? We're still not entirely sure of the extent of his 'abilities', if he has any at all. Even that being as it is, I'll give Syndrome credit for picking a damn strong alliance." Rick Dickers stood before a projector with the two suspects' pictures and known information. Before him sat all the city's supers and Mirage with her paperwork. He strode across the floor slowly, tapping the pointer in his hand.

"Assuming Syndrome's even still alive. He's been awful quiet." Frozone frowned.

"Someone's upgrading those omni-droids." Elastigirl responded, pointing to the next slide with details on their latest robot kill. True, the upgrades weren't anything to scream about, but the fact that it was being done was good enough to question the validity of Syndrome's disappearance. As far as any of them knew, the only person with intimate knowledge of the creatures was the creator himself.

"Should've hit that button a long time ago." Mr. Incredible hissed, and several murmurs of approval followed. Another super spoke up immediately, addressing the strong man with a rather angry voice.

"Well, we didn't. And now we've got to deal with him before he deals with us. You of all people know of his track record with killing us off!" Mr. Incredible was just about to stand and retort back, but yet another super stood instead, hushing the group.

"Whether we want to accept it or not, both Syndrome and Viral are nothing but civilians underneath that layer of technology. They're only human, and humans make mistakes, they slip up, and they have a nasty little thing called pride. There's gotta be a way to take them out!"

"Syndrome's biggest advantage is his own mind. Until we can figure out how to turn him into a vegetable, he'll always be three steps ahead of us." Frozone pointed out with a finger to the air.

"Gotta find him first." Muttered Dash. While the young super was often overlooked due to his inexperience, this statement was widely accepted with a morbid silence.

"Viral's spiders did a number on him before he left. He's probably not strong enough to face us head on, which would explain why spider-man has all of his robots and tricks." Incredigirl sighed, leaning back far in her chair. She hated talking about this. She didn't want to think about the person who so cruelly used her, let alone face him again. While the other supers discussed this possibility, she chanced a look over at Mirage. The beautiful woman didn't look any more pleased to be there. Only a moment after that, everyone's attention was pulled towards the projector. The picture was slowly fizzling away.

"I hope I haven't interrupted anything important, Mr. Dickers." Viral smiled. The entire slideshow had vanished, replacing the picture with a video of the very discussion they were having. The spider keeper stood within a dark room lit by nothing but computer screens. In the background Incredigirl could make out another body... but who was it? "I'm glad to finally meet all of you in person. Well, sort of." He chuckled.

"What do you want, Viral." Elastigirl demanded. The long haired man smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing at all, _mademoiselle_. I've got everything in the world that I could possibly want. Oh, and Syndrome says hello." Viral reached up and tilted the camera. The man who had been at the desk behind him turned around and flashed a peace sign before whirling back around in the chair and returning to work. "You've all been so worried about his health, I thought I should assure you that he's recovered quite nicely."

"Hope he's ready to go back to the turbine that he lucked out of last time." A super muttered.

"That's hardly a nice thing to say about a former friend," viral tisked, and Syndrome chuckled to himself in the background. Incredigirl looked away from the screen, unable to listen to Viral's nonsense. She looked down at Mirage again, noticing that the woman was on her phone with a dark expression. "But anyhow, I only came to pick up a few things that careless Syndrome left behind. I hope you don't mind. I left a little present after we're all done here, though. Do take care, supers. Mr. Dickers."

"What the-!" Mirage muttered from her phone, peering at it with wide eyes. The supers turned towards her immediately. Her address book was deleting itself! Almost simultaneously, every computer in the room flashed to life, loading their operating systems. Several NSA officials ran towards them, all reporting that the computers were completely unresponsive. Even the projector's images began to waver, disappearing one pixel at a time. Rick Dickers moved towards his own computer, watching in horror as every file, every vital piece of information on the computer spontaneously deleted itself.

"Dickers! The NSA office! It's happening there too!" A super shouted over his phone, which also began deteriorating as he spoke. Mirage yelled angrily, throwing her phone down in a fit of rage. The dirty bastard had used her own trick against her! Used it, and improved it. It wasn't easy to remain invisible to the world, and she'd learned a good number of tricks back in the old days - but this - this was stealing! Her eyes flashed towards the projector however, for suddenly a television program had flashed on and displayed a concerned reporter giving them all the news they dreaded the most.

"This just in! All around the world, major government bureaus have experienced a sudden terrorist attack against their servers! Data everywhere is missing, and officials are in a panic. we've been informed that perpetrators are -" Before the reporter could say anything further, all screens in the room went black. The moment didn't last long, however, for a small green text began typing itself out. By the time it finished, rooms all over the world had cleared out in a hurry.

_This device will self destruct in ten seconds._

_Love, _

_Viral_


	11. Action!

**Note: **I'd like to apologize for the numerous mistakes in this chapter for those who had already read it. I've put it through a review and replaced the old version with this one, appropriately italicized and spelled. **  
><strong>

**Currently Listening To:** CKY - Karmaworks

_"Looks like they've upgraded from villains to super-terrorists."_

_"What on Earth do you do when the unstoppable force and the immovable object team up!"_

_"Wait for the world to end, of course."_

"You take the blue pill - the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe." Viral smirked at Syndrome who was making several small adjustments to his gauntlets when he'd walked in. The red head looked up with eyebrows raised, eyeballing the two drinks. "You take the red pill - you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes. "

"Give me the jack. In fact, bring the whole damn bottle. I _am_ the rabbit-hole." Syndrome muttered, taking the drink, downing it, and tossing the glass over his shoulder as he headed out the door for the first time since he'd arrived. Viral twitched a finger, smiling pleasantly as his spiders came from every corner and crevice and followed Syndrome with mechanical squeaks and squeals. Viral took his own shot, setting the glass down on a desk on his way out. A very busy day they'd have ahead of them, might as well enjoy it.

Mirage had been completely bogged down for days after Syndrome and Viral's attack. They'd had the audacity to sign the virus under Pine Industries. Being the sole owner of the entire set of assets, she could do little else but allow every three-lettered government association to tear the building and employees to pieces in order to find something that wasn't there. Funds were frozen, the building was quarantined, and Mirage herself was subject to more interrogations than she ever thought imaginable. For seventy-two hours she tried to convince every Captain Sally and Officer Brady that she had absolutely nothing to do with any of it and if anything, _she_ was a victim as well!

"I don't know how much more of this I can take, Rick." Mirage sighed, head in her arms at his desk. It was day four of the company search, and dozens of employees had already been arrested. She had every intention of giving in, relinquishing ownership and letting the government seize everything. It was Buddy's company after all, and thanks to what he'd done he was getting off scot-free. On top of it all, there had been a huge chunk of cash that had disappeared from several Swiss bank accounts only days prior according to the findings from the FBI. _Took what you needed and left the rest to burn. So much for the stockholders._

"I'll be just as elated as you when they put Syndrome behind bars where he belongs." Rick Dickers rubbed his temples in aggravation. Mirage hadn't been the only person to be questioned. The NSA had undergone several audits and interviews as well. The taxpayers wanted to know why the situation hadn't been cleared and taken care of yet, and all Rick could do was assure them that the NSA and super heroes were working their hardest. It wasn't the answer they wanted to hear, but it took the cameras off of them for a short time.

"I'll bring him in myself if I have to." Mirage muttered. "We're putting a team together for a covert mission. One bright guy decided to attempt a trace on Viral's little spiel and I've received the information this morning. Took him all this time to recover the coordinates." Rick couldn't have looked more surprised.

"Who's going, and when?"

"Me." The white-haired woman raised an eyebrow, leaning over to fetch a briefcase.

"Alone? Are you out of your mind?"

"Completely, Rick. Syndrome doesn't think I can beat him at his own game. He's going to be in for an unwelcome surprise from a former high security clearance employee." She smirked uncharacteristically, reaching in the case and pulling out a high-tech looking machine gun. "I don't intend to let him get away with the misery he's put me through."

"Sounds like a personal problem." Both Mirage and Dickers turned around towards the voice without a body. Violet appeared in the doorway with a stern expression. "Running in blind just to get a shot at your ex boyfriend doesn't sound like such a smart plan."

"How-"

"I see a lot of things, Mirage." Violet sighed. "Regardless, even if you did manage to find him, what would you do about Viral or whatever they might have waiting around down there? It might sound a little conceited, but we're supers for a reason. Why not accept the help that you have?"

"Because an army of supers isn't obvious at all. If you haven't noticed, Incredigirl, those two aren't looking to fight head on. They'd be stupid to try. Even if you all managed to get down there, they'd b gone before you could find them." Mirage's eyes narrowed as she clicked the gun, setting it back into the case and closing it gently. "Syndrome left some of his toys behind, including this one, which I'll be utilizing."

"You're hardly-"

"I'm an expert in reconnaissance, and was hired because of my skills. I'm more than 'qualified' for this, Violet."

"I still think you're doing it for the wrong reasons." The woman was about to retort, but Rick cut them off.

"Incredigirl has a point, Mirage. The last thing we need is for you to go disappearing as well."

"But-!" She didn't have a chance to speak further, for Rick picked up his ringing phone. Moments later he turned on the television, changing to the news channel. All eyes widened at the scene unfolding before them. A news crew had taken to the sky, cameras aimed down at the Metroville prison. The inmates were running wild in the yards, headed towards what, they couldn't make out yet.

"We're here at the Metroville Prison, watching what can only be described as horror unfolding. Syndrome has finally presented himself in person, and the police are doing everything they can to quell the riots within the prison walls. Wait, what's this? Hang on, we've gotta get in a little closer here." Much to the shock of the viewers in Rick's office, Syndrome was indeed there. He'd landed neatly on top of the north wall, zero-pointing the guards out of their posts and throwing them over the side with little regard to where or how they landed. Mirage couldn't help but swallow as the villain turned his sights upon the camera crew.

"There's Viral, over there!" One of the crew members pointed out, and the camera changed positions. Indeed the spider man was several blocks over, walking pleasantly along while his spiders penetrated every crack and crevice of the wall. They also tinkered with a large sound system. Another of the crew gasped, and the camera changed positions once again. Several dozen guards, police cars and tanks were doing everything they could to stop the advances of another omni-droid headed towards the front gate. Without another word, Incredigirl disappeared from the room. Mirage took the case with her, exiting as well as Viral began a countdown.

"Three, two, one, action!"

_Tell me, Syndrome. Why is a raven like a writing desk?_


	12. Electrode

**Note: **Don't worry! I didn't forget the old guy!**  
><strong>

**Currently Listening To:** Disturbed - Forgiven

Viral cackled, pointing over towards Syndrome. The red-head brought a gauntlet within speaking range, and began the monologue that would stop the prisoners dead. They listened intently as he spoke, hanging on every word that came through the hacked sound system.

"Today, a movement begins. Operation Kronos gave rise to an era in which man and super were equal adversaries. The world wanted a show, and that was only the first scene! Today, we the people take matters into our own hands. Call it a new world order, call it whatever you want. No longer will those who think of themselves as 'special' or 'heroes' rule _my_ city. They won't tell you what to do, push you around, put you away." The prisoners cheered, and Syndrome grinned. By that time, the omni-droid had made it to the gates. It smashed away at them carelessly, and Syndrome continued on his spiel.

"Thank me later. In the meantime, this establishment is set to blow in fifteen minutes. If you're feeling frisky, free your cell-mates. All prior employees of Nomanisan are required to return to work. Your checks are in the mail. Now, if you'll excuse me." The red-headed villain stepped away calmly with his hands behind his back, leaving the prisoners to disperse and make their escape. Viral cackled from a distance, starting his own twisted little count-down while some of his spiders tortured a guard.

By that time, the supers had arrived and were doing as much as they could to contain the riot and omni-droid that stomped around the grounds with little regard to what was under its feet. Incredigirl had gotten a view of Syndrome entering the building from afar, but had been unable to follow. However, as the omni-droid's attention was pulled away from her area and into another, she took the opportunity to disappear and give chase, side-stepping Viral's spiders that seemed to be coming out of everywhere.

It took several long minutes to make it down the winding hallways with all the prisoners running back and forth. Some were heroes, rescuing their friends, others weren't so interested. Several winding hallways later and she'd finally run into Syndrome. Several of the prisoners had taken up arms and escorted him along; Incredigirl could only assume that they were the employees he'd been referring to. She stayed invisible, following at a distance. Eventually the group had stopped at a cell, and Syndrome used his zero-point energy to pull the door off its hinges.

"I have a present for you, old man." Syndrome grinned cattily, tossing something into the cell.

"What a surprise. I see you've taken my advice."

"What did I say?" He smirked as the older man exited the cell in his new getup. Violet gasped, eyes widening. He was a villain as well? From when? Who was it? How did Syndrome even know him? The gaggle of villains and guards headed down another hallway, towards the exit. There was only seven minutes left until the fireworks, and they were right on time to leave without a scratch. That was until Incredigirl stepped in front of them.

"Move along little lady." The newly freed prisoner smiled at her. He was an elderly man so far as she could tell, definitely older than her father. The calmness he displayed gave her a sense that he was well-educated. Most certainly one who calculated, rather than one who acted. A tilt of Syndrome's head had caused the prisoners to raise their guns, aiming them directly at her. His expression did not change, and it stung.

"I can't let you do this." Almost as if on queue, her father had jumped out in front of her. The movement caused the gunmen to pull their triggers and if she hadn't put up a shield in time, the both of them would've been Swiss cheese. When the smoke cleared and the bullets finally stopped, Mr. Incredible had a better look at the prisoner that was getting all of the special treatment. His eyes narrowed upon recognition; how long it had been since he'd seen that guy around...

"Syndrome came all this way for you, Electrode?"

"Ah, Mr. Incredible. Long time no see!" The man clapped his hands together and Incredigirl thought for a moment that she'd seen sparks fly. Syndrome set his eyes upon the young super, staring her down with a look so lifeless that it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The only thing that could've and did make it worse, was a tiny smile that followed until she was forced to look away.

"It would figure that he'd be the one to break you out."

"Syndrome never fails to amaze. Isn't it amazing what modern technology can achieve? I've been a bit of a fan, actually. You can only imagine how pleased I was to know that we'd share the same cell block."

"Save the monologue, already." Mr. Incredible growled. It wasn't until he looked ready to lunge that Syndrome made his move, trapping both he and Incredigirl in the zero-point energy. He moved them over casually while his guards and the man known as Electrode passed by. The older man looked thoroughly impressed, stopping to observe with wide eyes.

"And they don't talk back anymore! Outstanding!"

"You bested me once before, Mr. Incredible," Syndrome smiled, staring the old-school super down with the same malice he'd seen in the hospital, the same determination that he'd seen in his first trip to the containment block on Nomanisan Island. "There won't be a second victory, I promise you. Time to play hard ball." With a single quick movement he released the supers, using energy from his other hand to blow them down the hall. Violet's force field smashed into the wall, breaking their fall. By the time Mr. Incredible had collected his bearings, the two villains had disappeared in the smoke as the building's foundations began to shake.

Mr. Incredible wanted to chase the freckled devil down and would've followed him to the ends of the earth right then and there. Unfortunately his strength was needed to hold the walls together that threatened to give way at any moment. Through the supers' combined efforts, the majority of the prison's tenants came out unharmed, but the body count was still high. The blast on the final countdown rocked Metroville from miles away; anybody who hadn't been watching the news was sure they'd been hit by an earthquake.

One person had seen the trio make their exit, had watched the direction in which they'd headed. Mirage frowned from behind her helmet, revving the engine of her motorcycle and speeding after them. Perhaps Violet was right, she might've very well been doing it for all the wrong reasons, but as it was, she was the only one who knew the bad guy's coordinates, and like hell if she was going to let some stubborn supers cause even more chaos than they already had. _Consider this freelance work, Dickers._

"Electrode is dangerous only because he does actually have powers, unlike Syndrome and Viral. He can pull electricity out of any source and use it as a weapon. We're unaware of how long he can hold a charge, but touching him is never recommended." Rick Dickers was back in their office, pulling files out of an old box and passing them around the table. The NSA crew was working on getting their systems back up, but it wasn't faster than Syndrome's plans.

"But what interest does Syndrome have in this guy? More importantly, how does he even know him? Hasn't he been in prison for a good forty years? It's almost before even Mr. Incredible's time. Syndrome's still just a kid compared to most of us, he wasn't even born during this guy's prime!" An older super spoke up.

"A kid that has proven that it's a bad idea to underestimate just how insane he can be." Violet sighed.

"The bottom line is that we have got to put a stop to this before he plays anymore cards." Rick interrupted the discussion, putting a hand up to silence the room. "It's obvious that Syndrome plans to pull all of the stops this time, so all we can do at this point is damage control. Twenty four hour surveillance, and all eyes on the sky. If you have contacts underground, get them to talk."

_The only thing they're going to do is laugh at us for not seeing this coming._


	13. The Deep End

_"So, what's with the music, Syndrome?"_

_"Makes it easier to think over the noise of your voice."_

_"I didn't mean music in general, I meant with this music. Is that... Lady Gaga?"_

_"...Maybe."_

The trio of villains had arrived at a huge building on the far north side of Metroville. Storming the place took little effort at all with Syndrome's re-enforced guard dogs and Viral's spiders. Electrode had to do little else but watch with an inquisitive curiosity. He was entirely too impressed by the display these two had given him so far; admittedly, he hadn't been too fond of the idea when it was presented to him at first. A rookie (however infamous) and a non-existent name taking over all of Metroville? In fact, even the part where he was involved seemed a little over the top, even for a widely known techie like Syndrome.

"Welcome to your new home, boys." Viral announced as they dispatched the last of the building's old tenants. He flicked a light in the dark hall they'd been walking down which immediately illuminated what turned out to be an extremely large workplace. Desks lined the room for all number of security systems and other functions, while the middle had several work benches that overlooked the best view in town. Electrode smiled pleasantly, and Syndrome went about turning on the computers and assigning them to his new staff.

"I must ask, Syndrome." Electrode strode beside the red-head, watching his moves carefully. It seemed as though those gauntlets were good for more than just blowing supers out of the water. They recorded each computer's information and the person sitting there, beeping when it was ready to move on. One could never be too careful with sensitive information, and it was clear that Syndrome was taking every precaution. "Are all of these young ladies and gentlemen absolutely necessary?"

"For a project of this size? Absolutely. If anybody sets foot in this building, it'll be taken care of. I prefer to have enough free time to actually take care of business. Unless of course-"

"Oh no, that's quite alright. Although, I'd absolutely love to see this machine." Electrode smiled. Viral had heard the conversation and immediately strode off towards the front of the room and activated the main computer, bringing up a giant schematic on the glass projector directly in front of it. The older man stood in awe as Viral chuckled, and Syndrome eyeballed the spider keeper's work for the first time.

"I always expected it to be bigger." Syndrome tilted his head, putting his hands up like a picture frame.

"Can't just thank me, can you."

"Maybe after we take it for a test drive." Syndrome grinned, rubbing his hands together.

"So, what you're saying is that I've got to draw enough power to fire that monster." Electrode tapped his chin, examining the death-ray from an almost mathematical perspective. Perhaps they might be asking a bit too much of him; that concern was squashed a moment later.

"That's precisely what your role in our little musical entails. This machine is designed with high-power damage in mind. I wanted to create something that could amplify a small burst of energy and turn it into something that could level a city block. Assuming Viral's lackeys set this up exactly as I specified, it should run like a dream."

"How precise is that, exactly?" Electrode shook his head and asked the question for a chuckle. Syndrome caught the gist, but past a smile his expression held that of a matter-of-fact answer.

"Any less than .024 and it'll implode upon itself."

"Which means you need to get to work!" Viral had snuck up behind Syndrome, giving him a light shove in the direction of the now vacated computer at the front. The red-head jumped and nearly blasted the raven-haired man, cringing away from any further pushing. He made it a point to brush off his shoulder before continuing along. Both of the older men smirked at their younger cohort's reaction to being touched. Clearly, not one for getting into a brawl. Electrode ran a hand along one of the computer panels, nodding pleasantly as the row it sat on flickered. Still had it. "So, what are your thoughts, my new friend?"

"Acquaintance for now, Viral. Honestly? I'm quite impressed. How far have we to go?"

"As soon as he's done over there." Viral pointed over at Syndrome who sat heavily in the computer chair and logged into the system, pulling up every program and calculator he'd need; way more than Electrode could keep up with. He then pulled out a piece of paper, a pen, and a music player. Once the tunes were set as he wanted them, he got to work, spacing out on the numbers. Electrode suppressed the urge to laugh as the techie bobbed along to his tunes as if building something of this difficulty was something he did every day. This was going to be an interesting partnership indeed.

"Mirage, what you're doing is insanity." Violet sighed, rubbing her forehead as she held her cell phone to her ear. She'd called the white-haired woman after the meeting had inquired on her location. Mirage had filled the super in with as much information as she dared; enough to know that she was alive, but not enough to find her. Mirage had parked in a nearby alleyway and followed the group by a fair margin.

"I can almost guarantee that half of those idiots don't know that I don't work for him anymore."

"Are you really willing to bank your life on that? Listen to yourself!"

"I've been listening to it, and you're not changing my mind." Mirage frowned, taking out her gun.

"Mirage. I don't know what he was saying to you back then but you know as well as me that he'll say anything to get his way. As cruel as it is, you've probably been lied to more than anybody else. I promise you, this isn't worth it."

"I've been lied to since the day I met him." Mirage muttered, hanging up the phone and heading inside. Strangely, the front door had been unguarded and the chaos erupting just outside the building was enough that she could move in without detection. At first glance, the place reminded her of a very badly drawn maze. Upon further inspection and a quick look at the building's owner, and a quick memory jog caused her to realize that she'd been here before...recently.

Daniel Crowe, she'd gone up to that man's office with Buddy Pine for a company deal. A lanky man he'd been, with fairly long dark hair and dressing in a surprisingly casual way. The two men had chatted for a long time on the twentieth floor. Despite the tall man's demeanor, he'd dealt with the sly businessman named Buddy well. An agreement had been made, and they'd left. Mirage frowned, eyebrows furrowing. _Viral._

All you know how to do is use people. Mirage sighed, dodging around a corner in the same direction she'd come with Buddy the first time. The halls were deserted, and she was being watched. Viral leaned forward on the computer panels, head sitting neatly on the backside of his hands and elbows up on the table. Electrode came behind him, eyeballing the white-haired woman who dashed through the building towards them.

"I remember that woman from the prison." Electrode tilted his head.

"It seems as though Syndrome's girlfriend wants to come for an uninvited visit."

"Is that right?" The older man inquired, getting a better look at their intruder. She certainly knew what she was doing, outside of avoiding the cameras. She'd stopped at the sound of one of the machines following her movements, pointing the gun at it and taking it out. "Pretty thing, she is."

"It would be rude of us not to greet our guest." Viral smirked.

"And Syndrome?"

"Tut, tut. He's far too busy to be bothered. We'll take care of it."

Mirage had known about the cameras and knew that someone would eventually come to stop her if they were as fully staffed as she anticipated. The camera shoot-out had been nothing but an urge to destroy someone's property. A tiny moment of revenge, and that was all. The greeting party had not been who she had expected, however. It was the last corner before Mr. Crowe's office that she'd come to a dead halt, face to face with the man himself.

"You look familiar. Have we met before?" He smiled genuinely. Mirage raised her gun. As soon as she was about to fire, the hall went completely black. She fired aimlessly, hitting nothing but the carpet and surrounding walls. "That really is an interesting trick, Electrode." _... Shit._

"You think so? I always found it to be rather bland standing beside my other tricks."

"Care to show them off?"

"Shut up, both of you!" Mirage hissed, shooting blindly again. A light in the distance caused her some confusion, and she'd barely dodged in time to avoid the electric energy that had come at her.

"Bravo!" Mirage turned her head in the direction of Viral's voice, eyes finally adjusting to the darkness. Before she could raise her gun to shoot him however, a hand came down on her shoulder. She'd reflexively turned to fight back, coming eye to eye with the older man who turned out to be stronger than he looked. The lights flickered back on as the hand Mirage punched with was grabbed at the wrist. The other hand which held the gun was taken as well, and the weapon was plucked from her hands. She was then promptly let go.

"Interesting machinery you have here." Electrode peered at the gun, turning it over in his hands. Electric currents pulsed through it, disappearing back into the hands that held it. "Shame it didn't serve its purpose."

"Where's Syndrome." Mirage demanded at the two men who didn't immediately answer.

"Wondering what part of 'you're fired' you didn't understand." The red-head's voice carried from behind them, causing the group to turn around. He'd just turned the corner, cape sweeping behind him and boots clicking on the well-polished marble.

"Done already?" Viral blinked.

"You sound surprised." Syndrome raised an eyebrow.

"Bastard..." Mirage hissed, using Electrode's moment of unawareness to make a grab for the gun he'd taken. The villain ducked as soon as she'd gotten hold of it. The machine fired straight for Syndrome who had barely avoided the blast. Before Viral could blink the moment was over, and Mirage was caught in zero-point energy. Syndrome shook his head in disappointment and for the first time since he'd left the supers, Mirage could see the new nemesis that they were now to face, and it wasn't pretty.

"I tried my best to let you off easy, but that obviously wasn't enough." He sighed.

"Shall I leave you to it, then?" Viral asked. As if answering the question, Mirage was released with a quick flick of his wrist. She hit the wall hard and dropped to her knees, releasing the weapon that Electrode quickly fetched. Syndrome turned around after that, going back the way he came. Mirage forced her head up, staring after him in near disbelief. He'd never raised a hand towards her, let alone a weapon, and the hit had been enough to take her breath away.

"I'll talk with her later, just find somewhere for her to stay." Then he was gone. Mirage was suddenly picked up by a mass of spiders, forced to go in whatever direction Viral wished. Even as she was thrown into a room without windows or vents, even after the door was slammed after her, she still couldn't wrap her head around what had just occurred. The eyes she'd met only moments ago were not the same as those she'd mistakenly fallen for twice. They were darker, colder, frightening.

_You were right, Violet. He's gone off the deep end this time._


End file.
